


the Life of a Conflicted Cop

by iamyourgodwaitno



Series: Peterick as a cop and a mob boss [2]
Category: Bandom, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, I hope, M/M, One Shot, Peterick, Short & Sweet, also cop!joe, cause most of my cop knowledge comes from that, cop!pete, cop/mob boss au, had to shout them out too y'know, i guess, i tried okay, mob boss!patrick, patrick is an absolute child in this, peterick au - Freeform, yes one of the fandoms is b99
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 10:38:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamyourgodwaitno/pseuds/iamyourgodwaitno
Summary: In which Pete is a cop and Patrick is a mob boss.





	the Life of a Conflicted Cop

**Author's Note:**

> based off of a well-known Tumblr post so something like this has probably been written before. do i care? kind of but whatever.

With a bulletproof vest strapped onto his chest, a pistol gripped tightly in his hands, and a SWAT team positioned behind him, Pete stood behind the locked entrance of the seemingly abandoned warehouse. Why was it always a warehouse? He held up his hand as a signal to the men dressed up in fancy police attire to stay behind him. Pete mentally counted down. _Okay. On the count of three. Three, two, one_. With that, he bust the door open with his badass Cop Swagger, which was something you _earned_ through years and years of hard work being a cop. Guns blazing, Pete and his team charged into the warehouse, where Illegal Criminal Activity was very wrongfully taking place.

Bad Guys were being tackled and fired at left and right. The SWAT team had that covered, that was for sure. Pete’s eyes scanned the warehouse, looking for a specific man. With a drug deal as big as this, the mob boss had to be nearby, supervising, in case anything went south. Pete supposed this did qualify as something going south, but the young mob boss had hopefully fled the scene. Or so he thought.

“Over there!” Pete’s best friend and partner in law, Joe, yelled. He was pointing at a running figure. Based on the hat, Pete could tell that the figure was none other than the notorious Patrick Stump, infamous mob boss, the man who had somehow been evading the cops for years. Before Pete could react, Joe had fired his Glock at Patrick. The bullet very, very lightly grazed the man’s leg, sending him to the ground with a dramatic wail. He lay there, clutching his leg and rolling around on the ground, minimal amounts of blood seeping through his fingers. Pete rolled his eyes before jogging over to where Joe was now standing over Patrick, handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest,” Joe began in a bored tone. No matter how many times they arrested the mob boss, he always managed to escape. Pete wondered why. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time.”

As Patrick was dragged out, he gave Pete a little pout. His eyes flicked down to his wounded leg before landing his eyes on Pete’s again. If Patrick was trying to make Pete feel bad, he wasn’t succeeding was the lie that Pete was telling himself.

~~~~~

_Fuck paperwork, honestly_. With any exhilarating, adrenaline-filled arrest always came a fuck ton of paperwork. Why? Pete didn’t know either. When Pete finally arrived home, he opened the door to a very disgruntled Patrick Stump. He had probably way too many bandages for a small wound wrapped tightly around his right calf and was sitting on the couch and watching television with a large, angry pout. Pete, faced with no other choice, sat down next to his boyfriend.

“Hey,” Pete gave a greeting, in hopes of starting a conversation. He wrapped an arm around Patrick’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “How was your day?” He hoped Patrick wasn’t too mad at him for getting him shot. Pete gave him a peck on the cheek, as if that would fix anything. 

Patrick, who appeared to be giving Pete the silent treatment, stayed silent. Fuck, he was mad. Pete, completely unsure of what to do, nuzzled Patrick’s neck and gave him another small kiss. “Trick? You okay?”

“You shot me.” Patrick pulled away from Pete and crossed his arms like a child. “It hurt really bad,” he added, confirming the fact that he was indeed a child.

“Hey, it was Joe who shot you, not me.” Pete was quick to protest, before he realised his mistake when Patrick started to pout even more, which shouldn’t’ve been physically possible. He shuffled closer to Patrick again and cuddled up to him again. “Trick, baby, I’m sorry. I love you.” Pete let Patrick rest his head on his chest as they sat in silence, _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ quietly playing in the background. With mild hesitation, Pete finally asked his question. “How did you get out? I thought I could’ve busted you out tomorrow.”

“You were going to wait until _tomorrow_ to get me out of custody?” Patrick looked up at Pete with big, sad puppy eyes. 

Pete gave a small laugh. “Yes. I had paperwork to deal with.” 

Patrick only sighed in response, before answering Pete’s original question. “For the record, there are a ton of corrupt cops in your precinct. You really have to get rid of them sometime.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. “Are you gonna give me any names or clues?”

“You.” Patrick grinned. 

"I know that," Pete said, not even trying to deny the fact that he was corrupt. "Who else?" 

Patrick gave him a little kiss and stood up slowly, carefully avoiding pressure on his very barely injured right leg. "That's for you to figure out." 

It was Pete's turn to pout. "Please?"

"Nope," Patrick said, dragging out the n and popping the p. “I’m going to bed. And since I’m mad at you and injured, you’re sleeping on the couch.” Patrick didn’t give Pete a chance to protest as he went to their room and locked the door. Grudgingly, Pete accepted his fate as a lonely man with no bed to sleep on.

~~~~~

Pete was underwater. The weight of the liquid was crushing him, pulling him deeper and deeper. Something strange was prodding at his cheek, threatening to attack. With his Super Cop Instincts, which was another thing earned through years of cop activity, he slapped at the prodding item as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. The water on top of him was, in fact, his _very_ lovely boyfriend, who was poking him in the face. “You’re awake,” Patrick remarked with a grin when he saw that he had successfully woken Pete up.

“Uh, hey,” Pete said groggily, very unsure of what was going on at the moment. 

Apparently, Patrick, who was still crushing Pete with a giant hug, had already forgiven him in the past four hours. “Come on, Pete. The bed’s cold without you.” With that, Pete was over to their room and into their bed, which was a much more comfortable place. Once again, he fell asleep, but this time with his arms wrapped around his wonderful boyfriend’s waist. Once they were both snug and about to fall asleep, Patrick whispered something into Pete’s ear through a half-asleep daze before promptly falling asleep, leaving Pete with an extremely uncomfortable thought swimming through his mind for the rest of the night. 

“What if we got our bathroom fully carpeted?”

**Author's Note:**

> halfway through writing this i realised that i needed a prequel, which i already have an idea for so yay. i also got an idea for another oneshot in this universe so expect that soon i guess?


End file.
